Here Comes Triple Treble
The Chaotic Coming-out
“So yeah, that’s it. That’s what I had to tell you. You can go ahead now and tell me it was obvious all along and you already knew it since, like, forever. Or that it’s actually a surprise. I honestly have no idea if you knew. You sometimes seemed so oblivious to it but then you seemed to be completely in on it the next moment.” Quigley was spilling the words straight out, barely having time to catch his breath. Afraid of what the next part of that conversation would be once he did. He was pacing the room from one side to the other looking to one wall, then to the one on the opposite side, then to the ceiling, then to the floor and all over again. “And fuck me, willyousayfuckingsomething?” He almost yelled, finally stopping his manic pacing and, in one sudden motion, turning to face his brother, whose face didn’t help.
Duncan’s demeanor was grave. He was staring intently almost at Quigley, but just a little past him. His gaze was somewhat lost, revealing that his mind was half there in his brother’s bedroom, listening; and half miles away. He then looked at Quigley. His eyes getting just a tiny bit wider.
Quiley, anxiety-ridden, anticipated a negative outcome, of course. But seeing his worst fear materialize in front of him was something he could never be prepared for. Duncan was, by the look of him, not liking the news he had just heard.
“Doyouhateme?” Quigley asked timidly, almost in a whisper. A tear rolled down.
“Quig.” For a moment Quigley doubted whether Duncan was actually going to continue talking. “What you just described.” Again that awful pause. “Is exactly what I’m going through right now.” They both had wet cheeks by then.
“Wha–” Quigley couldn’t quite process what his brother had just said. “You mean–”
“Yeah. I think I do.”
The sound of the front door being opened. Someone getting in. Door being closed.
“Dun. Quig. I’m home!”
Quigley looked scared at his older brother, expectant. Duncan’s being a full minute older was something Quigley always took as clear indication he must have a whole lot more of an idea of what to do in difficult situations. Like when they were kids playing around the house in all the rooms their mother had told them not to and they –most surprisingly!– broke something. Quigley would always look at Duncan with those same eyes he had on now. Those eyes that asked “What do we do?”
“Do we tell her?,” is what he actually asks this time.
“I don’t know,” Duncan replies simply.
Isadora found the stretched silence a bit weird. Leaving her backpack fall from her shoulder onto the kitchen floor, she called again “Quig? Dun?”
“In here,” came the answer.
She did not like how shaky Duncan’s voice sounded. So she put the apple she had just bitten down onto the counter –taking a mental note to get back to it in the next few minutes, before the ants or whatever other bug did– and went upstairs.
For the second time that day, Quigley was about to fall down to the floor, ridden with anxiety. This time staring at Isadora’s blank stare.
For a second, the absurdity of the situation seemed a little funny to Quigley. All three of them, just standing there, in the middle of his room. Isadora quite literally performing what “just standing there” looked like.
Finally movement. Her arm. Looking for Duncan’s and holding for support. She looked at Duncan, then at Quigley, then back again. The corner of her mouth twitched. And then… was she laughing?
Then the laughter burst out. Holding her stomach with the free hand –the other one still holding Duncan– and bowing down, like her legs would fail her. Finally, she deliberately sat down on the floor.
“No– What– You– I can’t breathe,” she began, but could barely finish a sentence.
Duncan began laughing, too, but not nearly as wholeheartedly as her. He was caught up between not knowing whether she was laughing at them or with them. Then probably considering she might be laughing about a completely unrelated thing. The result was an awkward laugh. Quigley thought it was funny to see his older brother in such an embarrassing position. Definitely not wearing his extra minute adequately.
“Will you tell us–,” Duncan began, “will you explain– what– you– Isadora– Why are you laughing?”
“Guys–,” she looked like she might start rolling on the floor. “I’m gay, too,” she said and a new wave of burst out laughter showed up.
And then she actually began rolling on the floor.
“Oh, damn it, I thought you were bi–”
“Wait, what?–”
“It’s what made the most sense to me–”
“What do you mean, you, too?–”
“I thought you liked boys, too–”
“Wait what do you mean you thought she was bi?–”
“Phew, I thought you were laughing at us for a moment at first–”
“You knew about her and didn’t tell me?–”
Duncan and Quigley had finally woken up from their stupor. Talking over each other, apparently to compensate for the long moments in silence. Isadora was reconciling the laughter with the breathing. Then there was more breathing. Then she –still giggling– managed to speak.
“I didn’t fully know about y’all, I mean, I reckoned Quigley, maybe, but not really you, Dun. And yeah, I am bi, actually.
